TWILIGHT
Todd pressed his ear to the ground, squinting his eyes. Sounds traveled differently through the earth than they did through stone, and he had to readjust his hearing a bit. His nearby scouts waited quietly, politely holding their breaths, their sharp melee weapons at the ready. The surrounding trees of the Great Forest had been providing excellent cover, but had also facilitated their paranoia. The troops were on edge.
Todd did hear noise. Rhythmic pounding coming from far away, steadily closing in from the direction of Knothole village, but he didn't tell the others. He had sent Halivert ahead only an hour before, and did not want his troops getting more excited than they needed to be.
Pulling away from the ground, still on his knees, Todd pondered the possibility that maybe sending Halivert on a scout run had been a terrible decision. The kid was green, after all. Real green, still jumpy from inexperience.
However, if sending the kid had been a good decision, he would find out soon. The rest of his group were mostly pure-blooded alpines, descendents of tight knit families native to the northern mountains; but Halivert had a good deal of feline in him, however that had happened, and was therefore well-suited to the task of running long distances in short periods of time.
Todd stood to his feet, turning to his waiting drove. "Down time, gentlemen. Stay on guard. We'll wait."
Kicker and Wanks quickly found two trees to lean against, forming a line of sight to the east and west. Bowman and Jackson shuffled uneasily in between, sitting back to back, covering the north and south. That left Todd to patrol the perimeter. No matter; he was used to doing it. Besides, it increased morale, standing socially apart from the men.
Halivert arrived shortly thereafter, panting heavily from the run. The troops didn't bother getting to their feet, too deep in relaxation to care. Todd swiftly offered him a drink from his flask, and waited patiently for the report.
Halivert took one last gulp of water, then withdrew the flask from his lips, still panting heavily. He took a deep breath, and said one word.
"Empty."
At first, Todd thought that he meant the flask, but it felt heavy in his hand, at least half full. Only a moment had passed before it fully dawned on him. "Empty…"
"Yes, sir, the entire village. Deserted."
Todd bit his bottom lip, nodding, attempting to process the information, while the rest of his troops moved closer to listen.
Knothole. Deserted. Empty. Hmm.
It fit. Communication with Sally and her Freedom Fighter faction had basically flat lined, ever since the Doomsday celebration. Correspondence was simply no longer a priority, now that the city had been reclaimed. And nobody had terribly minded. The war was finally over, after all, and they all deserved some R&R before the Princess gathered together her plans to rebuild. In the meantime, they could make it easier on themselves by cleaning up the leftovers of Robotnik's sprawling grasp over the rest of the planet.
Todd placed a hand on Halivert's shoulder.
"Tell me what you saw."
Knothole.
A recent increase of SWATbot activity in all watch zones had alerted Freedom Fighters North (as Sally had penned them), and receiving no prior communiqué from Knothole, and no subsequent explanation for it had piqued some curiosities, to say the least. Knothole, because of its proximity to Robotropolis, was usually the first to squawk whenever something big was happening.
"It's hard to say, sir. You told me to stay back, so I couldn't really investigate, but I had a funny feeling about the place. And nothing was moving, not even in the trees. No birds. Nobody in the huts, nobody in the street. Like the place had been dead a long time."
"The brat got scared, Sarge."
"Can it, Bowman," Kicker hissed, smacking Bowman in the shoulder. Halivert didn't appear to have heard the comment, still concentrating on breathing.
Todd squinted his eyes so tight that he didn't have to blink. Halivert wasn't lying, nor did he sound like he was mistaken. He had two pieces of a puzzle and was trying to force them together, knowing that they would fit. Eventually, they clicked together.
Knothole, the best kept secret on Mobius… had it been raided? Were they all gone?
"We should have gone through Robotropolis," Jackson said, remembering two days before, when he had suggested exactly that, when they were on the very outskirts of the robot city. Todd had detoured them around the city in the end, sacrificing a day in the best interest of his troops.
"Maybe…" Todd bit his lower lip even harder. He had thousands of questions he wanted to ask Halivert, shake the poor kid until answers dripped out of every pore. He managed to restrain himself, sneaking a quick look at his troops. At times, it was hard to read their minds. At the moment, it looked to him like half of them didn't want to believe Halivert and the rest were afraid that he was right.
"Sir?"
Orders. Right. Orders. "I want you to head back home," Todd directed at Halivert, handing him the flask. "Tell everyone what you saw, and tell them that all of us went ahead to check it out." He paused, feeling an excruciating wave of unease wash over him as his troops shuffled their feet. "Tell them if they don't hear back from us, increase the defenses."
Borderline satisfactory, but it was all he could do. Halivert nodded, and stood to his feet. Todd made eye contact with him, a thought coming in. There was one other thing…
"Okay, kids, grab your gear and we'll head out, I want to get there before dark. Jackson, make sure they cover their tracks."
"Right."
The troops took the hint and walk back to their resting spot. Once they were out of sight, Halivert withdrew a SWATbot pistol from his pants.
Todd flashed a crooked smile. "Glad you didn't have to use it?"
"I don't think I would have," he said in place of a thank you. Halivert turned Todd's gun over in his hands, shaking from the surge of power he felt. Rust was beginning to show on the barrel and it almost burned to touch it. "I hope they're okay."
"I'm sure they are," he said as he took his gun back. "The Acorn family is tough, and Sally is probably the toughest in the line. Good blood in her. She wouldn't give Knothole up without destroying it first."
Halivert nodded, looking sad.
"Hey… you'll get the chance, sooner or later," Todd said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "She'll like you."
Halivert nodded again. "I'll get going, sir."
Todd watched him leave. "Go around the city, kid." He tucked the gun into his belt holster and rejoined his troops as they were finishing up, Halivert's light footfalls fading in the distance. Todd plucked his spear out of the ground and patted down the upturned soil with his foot. "Kicker, Wanks, take point. You know where we're headed."
They headed out immediately. Point was what the two friends liked doing the best, and Todd almost always put them together. Time passed by so fast when they were together, and it beat staying at the rear and trying to keep up with the group. Here, up front, they could set their own pace.
Before long, the sun stopped slipping in through the leaves and chose a lower position in the cloudless sky, losing the battle against the canopy to light the forest floor. Kicker and Wanks slowed their pace so that the others could keep up as the forest darkened.
"I met Antoine once," Wanks said as he kneeled behind a fallen, rotted branch. "A jerk, if you ask me, but at least he sounded intelligent."
Kicker hopped over the branch and took cover behind another tree, keeping his eyes on the horizon. "Sounds like everyone in their village. They all think the same way, all high and mighty. Ruling Mobius is a popularity contest to them."
"That right?"
"Believe it." He gave the signal to Wanks to come forward. "Sonic ruined them, made them cocky. Me, I don't think they'd get very far without him or the Princess, but they don't seem to realize it. They didn't at the time, anyway."
"Some bad blood between you?"
"A little. You were young, but we lost a lot of fighters at one time, when Knothole was at its peak and they had wanted to help out, as if our group wasn't fighting a good fight. They all left to join up, and we felt like they were defecting to the enemy. Knothole left us out to dry more often than I'd like to remember. Groups have been slaughtered for less but we have to tolerate it. For now."
Wanks had gone quiet up ahead. Kicker waited for a response, but didn't get one. He looked around the tree, and saw Wanks staring off in the distance, kneeling low in the tall grass. Kicker followed suit and crawled on his belly beside his friend.
Wanks quietly gasped out, "We're here."
What Kicker saw more than the village was that Halivert hadn't been lying. He had been talking too much to notice that the woods had gone completely silent, the soft wind blowing through the trees the only sound coming from on high. From their position, they could see a dozen huts with windows and doors wide open and at the complete mercy of the breeze. They could see the barren dirt roads, empty of footprints and signs of traffic. Smoke stacks with no smoke, a village with no villagers. Death without life.
"… We better tell Todd."
They had been looking for clues all afternoon, yet it was nearly twilight before any of them realized that Knothole was not only deserted, it was deathly still. No birds, no squirrels, nothing. It was as though life ceased to exist within a kilometer radius of the village.
The canisters were the most significant clue: small, empty metal shells that were littered sporadically among the huts. They appeared to be devices for deploying some sort of weaponized chemical compound. Further investigation revealed thin traces of white dust all over everything. "Let's try not to breathe this shit," Todd said. "It could be deadly."
"Doesn't make sense," Kicker said. "If the stuff killed everybody, what'd be the point of removing the bodies?"
"Good point. Could've been some kind of tear gas, maybe—something to incapacitate them. Or distract them."
"Or put them to sleep," Wanks called from the surrounding bushes. "Take a look at this."
When Todd and Kicker approached, they could see a family of unconscious deer laying arbitrarily on the ground along a nearby stream. A little further away was a collection of rabbits and birds. "They look dead," Kicker said.
"They're definitely still breathing," Wanks said," but they're in one hell of a deep sleep."
"The stream," Todd observed, stepping closer. "If the water was contaminated with that chemical, this attack could have happened days ago—weeks even. The animals keep drinking it."
"God," Jackson said. He and Bowman were just coming back from the forest.
"You guys find anybody?" Todd asked.
"Negative," Bowman said. "Surrounding forest is empty."
"Who the hell would do something like this?" Wanks breathed, pacing. "I mean, it can't be Robotnik, right? He's dead."
"Snively?" Jackson suggested.
Todd laughed. "You kidding? He wouldn't have the scope for this sort of thing. Or the balls."
"Those canisters don't look like anything I've seen from Robotropolis, either," Wanks said. "Doesn't mean anything, of course, but if you want my opinion, Robotnik and Snively are too predictable to pull something like this."
"Could've been anybody," Bowman said. "It could have been aliens from outer fucking space, for all we know."
"How'd they find Knothole, anyway?" Wanks wondered aloud. "Some kind of homing beacon or what?"
"Y'know," Jackson said, "maybe they just found it. The forest is only so big. They got lucky and kept quiet about it until just the right time. Bang—they capture everybody."
"Assuming Robotnik was behind it," Wanks said. "Who's dead. He was inside the Doomsday tower when it blew. He's toast."
"Well," Kicker said, "maybe he managed to get out before the explosion. Maybe he wants us to think he's dead."
Wanks shuddered. "This is creeping me out, y'know that? This is some freaky supernatural shit here."
It was starting to get dark, which made Todd uneasy. "I don't think it's safe to stay here much longer. Let's split up and do one last sweep of the area. Then we'll get the hell out of here and figure this out somewhere else."
"Great idea," Wanks said. "This place scares the hell out of me.
Roaming the Great Forest was somewhat unsettling without the familiar sounds of the indigenous wildlife. Even the crickets were silent tonight. It was downright eerie. Todd wondered whether or not he should call out for the others, since they were supposed to have left the area together almost ten minutes ago.
Give them time, he decided. No need to rush things. Maybe one of them found something important.
SNAP.
His heart jumped, and he turned in the direction of the sound and squinted. A broken twig? He thought the noise came from somewhere ahead and sort of to the left of him. It was almost too dark to see...
There—something darting behind a tree.
"Guys?"
No response. He waited a moment before drawing the SWATbot pistol from his pants. He held it with both hands and pointed it directly ahead of him.
"Hello?" he called, edging slowly forward. He felt his grip on the handle tightening as he tried to steady himself. He approached the tree hesitantly.
Nothing there. Just ahead of him was a small clearing, and he could plainly see that nobody was around. Maybe he was just imagining things. The whole situation made him uncomfortable; the others certainly should have met up with him by now.
SNAP.
Behind him.
Todd whirled around and fired, but something struck him in the chest—sent him flying. He landed on his back, hard, and it took a moment for him to realize that his gun had been knocked from his hand. He scrambled to find it in the grass.
This thing wasn't a SWATbot—he was certain of that. It was too silent, too stealthy. Too fast. He felt the sudden wind of it rushing to overwhelm him, and an unseen force struck him again in the face.
Bowman stopped himself in his tracks. "Hey, Jackson! Jackson, where are you?"
"I'm here," he called, approaching. "Did you hear that?"
"Yeah, sounded like gunfire. Which direction did Todd go?"
Jackson pointed. "That way. He went by himself."
"Shit. Something's happened. Where's Kicker and Wanks?"
"I dunno, they went in the other direction."
"I don't like this," Bowman said. "C'mon."
He broke into a quick sprint, rushing headlong down the grassy hill without blinking. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Wanks emerge from one of the tree houses. Kicker probably wasn't far behind. No time to stop, Bowman thought. They'll catch up.
He was halfway along when he noticed that he could no longer hear Jackson behind him. He stopped dead in his tracks, turned. Nobody. He strained his eyes to see into the village, looking for any sign of movement. The night was still and silent—so silent, in fact, that he could hear his heartbeat pulsing in his neck. There was only the slightest breeze, washing over the field of long grass like a transparent wave. There was a faint mist of fog clouding the horizon.
Only when the cloud grew thicker did Bowman realize what was happening. He tried to cover his mouth and hold his breath, but he had already inhaled too much. He dropped to his knees, growing weaker. Moments later, he was unconscious.
To be continued in REFLECTIONS.
